Dr. Amazing and the Miracle Girl

Sixteen years ago during summer break from her freshman year in college, our daughter was involved in an accident that nearly took her life.  A harrowing three weeks in the hospital and 6 years of surgeries followed.  Now, although walking on a leg covered in scars, she is recovered and a typical busy mom.

While she was home for a visit last week, she realized that the doctor that had treated her during those first weeks in the hospital and the months of surgeries and recovery that followed, had a satellite office in the neighboring community.  He was the orthopedic surgeon with the trauma team that treated her from the first moment she arrived by helicopter.  At the time he was the Chief resident in orthopedics and remained her doctor though out her hospital stay and until he finished his residency under the doctor that became her primary ortho doc.  He was an incredibly compassionate man who never forgot that patients were people, not just injuries and that parents were hurting too.  In addition, he put her sixteen breaks back together like a tinker toy, determined to make everything work in spite of incredible odds.  During this time, the three of us bonded like super glue.

"I really want to go see him.", she declared, "do you think he would remember me?"  Even though we hadn't seen him for nearly ten years, I was sure he would.  She called his office and requested a few minutes to say "hi" as a former patient.  His receptionist reacted in a thoroughly professional way. "You want to what?  He's only here two days a week and he is crazy busy on those days!"  At this point, my calm, collected, aways in control daughter, became a little unraveled around the edges.  With a sob in her voice, she replied, "You don't understand!  He's the reason that I can walk!  I won't take long but I really want to see him!"  The receptionist, God bless her, told her to come on and she would see that she got a minute with him.

We arrived when his appointments were nearly finished, with reading material, prepared to wait until he could spare a few minutes.  She went to the window in the waiting room and told the receptionist that she was here.  Before she could finish we could hear a voice saying, "Is she here?!"  In moments the door opened and they motioned for us to come back.  As we walked in, my daughter was immediately enveloped into a bear hug.  I looked on with tears in my eyes and said "Isn't it wonderful to see her walk in the door?"  Swaying gently as he hugged her, the doctor looked up and said, "No.  The wonderful thing is to see her alive and well!"  With that he grabbed me and pulled me into the hug as well. 

We finally broke apart, to see his entire staff clustered around, with tears in their eyes.  Immediately, he whipped out his phone and tossed it to his nurse.  Realizing that a photo op was happening, my daughter and I quickly added ours to the waiting hands.  The staff immediately started requesting "the rest of the story!"  It seems he had been telling them about our odyssey since he found out we were coming.  With tears in our eyes, we answered questions and filled in the events of the past years. 

Then the doctor turned to my daughter and said, "I was just talking about you this morning.  A young intern had come to me, questioning whether he was taking the right path with his life.  'What are the rewards and benefits of this?' he had wondered.' I told him your story.  That," I said, " is the reward and the benefit is seeing you healthy and happy." 

That was hours before she decided she just had to see him.  Like I said they are "bonded".